


Payback

by sixxxteentons



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Bondage, D/s, F/M, Humiliation, Slurs, ableist slurs, gendered slurs, whorephobic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 18:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixxxteentons/pseuds/sixxxteentons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick does not take kindly to being impersonated on the Internet. A gift for the amazing ghostie_withthemostie! <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostie_withthemostie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostie_withthemostie/gifts).



You were well on your way to falling asleep when a strange noise brought you back from the brink and you sat up, alert and a little startled.  
At first, you were sure it had been nothing, but in another few seconds you heard a creak on the landing outside your bedroom door.  
Then a soft curse.  
And that voice sent a chill down your spine, made your stomach clench up in shock and terror, because either something absolutely impossible had just happened or you were finally getting so far into your obsession that you were losing your grip on reality.  
The low, gritty, rough voice spoke again, and there was no mistaking it now. “Where the f-uurgh-ck is that little bitch hiding?”

Was this a dream? If it had been, you wouldn’t have been scared - you’d be jumping out of the bed, rushing over to open the door and throwing yourself on top of him.  
But you _were_ scared. There was too much texture around you for this to be anything but real, details your brain never bothered with when you were asleep - the crumbs on the sheets irritating your skin, the movement of the blinds when the air shifted in the room. And, against all logic, the sound of Rick Sanchez skulking around in your house.  
The heavy footsteps walked past your door, then doubled back and paused, just outside, as if he was listening just as intensely as you were. Pulling your blankets up to your nose was all you could do to protect yourself, and it felt silly but… well, the whole appeal of him was that he was unpredictable and cruel.

The door handle turned and you held your breath. The door swung open and his silhouette came into view; tall, imposing and dishevelled.  
This was nothing like the cartoon, nothing like the drawings. This was a real life breathing talking actual person, all rough edges and unflattering details. His tired eyes were quick and clever, his lined face was almost skeletal and his body was tense and alive with… anger.  
Boiling, seething anger. Your eyes finally met and his wide mouth twisted into a cruel, triumphant grin.  
“Nice hiding,” he said and shut the door behind him with deceptive gentleness. Rick remained in the same spot, watching you, letting you stew and then slowly, meaningfully cracked his knuckles.  
You wanted to reply, say something smart, but the only things that floated to the surface were the clichés; what, how, _why_. And that, you concluded, with all your knowledge of the man, would not please.  
But Rick, now slowly stalking close to the tall and narrow bed, was as keen to explain as any other villain. “I-I know what the fu-eurgh-fuck you’ve been doing, princess.”

You lowered the blanket enough to speak, your eyes still locked on him like a rodent hypnotised by a snake.  
The words were just a squeak until you’d cleared your throat and started over. “Which stuff… what are we talking about?”  
“‘What-whatever do you mean, Rick? I’m innocent!’” he mocked in an insulting, high pitched squeak.  
Rick was right by your bed, close enough to touch - close enough that you could smell his aftershave, feel the heat from his body. If you’d been anyone else, you would have felt conflicted about being turned on by this, but he was here and in the flesh and he was angry.  
It wasn’t as if it really mattered what happened next, short perhaps of murder. No, you were shaking and getting wet and what he wanted from you didn’t even come into it. It didn’t help that he looked like he knew it.  
His hand was in your hair, tangling in the red, long locks, and he twisted, hard, turning your head this way and that, examining you as if you were nothing but a carcass he was about to perform an autopsy on.  
“Hey,” you finally found your voice and your strength to react - the fact that he was tangible, a real thing, proved that this was actually happening and you’d be smart to fight back, or at least make a show of it.  
You reached up to try to pull his hands free, hit him so that he’d back off, but he didn’t even react. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  
“Oh, so you think-you think you can try to turn my personality into a dildo, impersonate me to other pathetic sluts li-eurp-ke you and I wouldn’t find out about it, hm?”  
  
Oh shit. You shut your eyes tight, tried your best not to remember in excruciating detail every embarrassing thing you’d written about him and failed completely.  
"Yeah, _now_ the bitch gets it.”  
You tried to take him by surprise and scramble off the other side of the bed, but he yanked back your hair so hard you squealed in agony.  
“See, this is what - this is exactly the kind of stupid move that proves… how-how little you fucking understand,” Rick sighed and pulled out a gun with his free hand, pressed it hard against your forehead and shook your head roughly as if he was literally trying to make a penny drop. “You gonna behave, hm? You gonna lie still?”  
You nodded quickly, kept your eyes on his - there was a maniacal glint in them now as his anger went from a spark to a fire.  
“Wh-urgh-what,” he growled. “You think I’d be flattered? That some-some dumb bitch with nothing better to do spends all her fucking time pretending to be me? As-as if-as if you could ever know me. You’ve got no fucking idea.”  
Rick let go your hair with a push of his palm that sent you tumbling back onto your pillows and stuffed animals, and then before you had a chance to stop him, yanked the blanket from your near-naked body.  
His dark eyes took in your form with a focus that frightened and excited you all at once. Would he like what he saw? Would that be better than if he didn’t?  
The hungry, cruel little grunt he made answered the first question.  
“Yeah, see… I don’t get why a whore like you can’t just, y'know, stick to what you’re good at and spread your legs for whoever asks… instead of soiling the internet with your quote unquote creativity. I mean, it’s not like you can’t get a dick hard…”  
You were so wet now that if you shifted on the bed, he’d be able to hear it, and you shut your eyes tight to try to ignore it.  
“But noooo. You just o-urgh-obsess about my wrinkly old cock and let it take over your whole fucking life. You realize how sad that is?”

God, yes. Be mean. Be angry. If he really thought he could punish you in a way you wouldn’t find a way to love, he wasn’t half as clever as you’d pictured him.  
But Rick just laughed. “Oh, princess, princess… you-you don’t think you’re a puzzle, do you? I know you better than you know yourself, and that took me all of five minutes on your sick blog.”  
With one movement, he was on top of you on the cramped bed, sat down heavily with his long legs spread on either side of your hips and let the gun trace your cheek, slip across your trembling, hungry lips and press against your teeth. You couldn’t help it - it made you moan.  
“See?” he snorted. “You-you’re just as pathetic a cunt as you make yourself out t-to be. I mean, I’m-I threaten to kill you and you’re just grateful for the attention.”  
You stayed still under him, breathed hard, felt your head spin and nodded quietly.  
“So how am I gonna make this register in that-that little cotton-stuffed head? You’re so fucking desperate, if I b-beat you and fuck you now you won’t lea-aarh-rn a thing. Help me out here.”  
Rick tapped his lower lip with mock thoughtfulness. “Well… I guess I can at the very least show you how I fuck. Y'know. So you can try to get it right in the future.”  
“That… that sounds fair.”  
“Yeah, oh yeah, I bet it-I bet it does, you little whore. You think I can’t smell your wet cunt from here?”  
  
The gun disappeared somewhere on his person, he got out a zip tie from another pocket and he pulled one long leg up to put his shoe against your throat while he grabbed your wrists.  
“I’m-you’re not gonna get-get feisty with me tonight, pr-uurp-princess. I’m not in the fucking mood.”  
It took a few seconds of rough fumbling before he had them tied together and though of course you tried more than once to get out of his grip, it was a symbolic struggle, nothing more, and it got nothing but a tired sigh and a smack across the side of your face in return.  
Rick leaned out and admired his own handiwork with his hands smugly on his hips. "Yeah, that looks about right…”

When you tried to twist your hands to get out of the uncomfortable bindings, he chuckled and that sharp, angry glint crept back into his eyes. Then he stepped off you, quick and graceful, and flipped you onto your knees and arms without even a grunt of effort. The things he could do with strength like that… what were the bets he’d bother with none of them?  
Rick grabbed your ass cheeks with both hands, squeezed, pulled them apart and made a low whistle of approval.  
“Come on, you fuck,” you bit back, impatient and eager. He’d promised to punish you, so what the fuck was the hold up? “You don’t need to get any older, do you?”  
“Ohhh, woah, _ouch_! Wow, yeah, you really… you really know how to get to me, you’re not transparent at all.”  
But he got onto the bed all the same, pulled open his belt and his fly so fast you wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d torn the fabric, and wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing hard. At first you felt a rush and moaned to egg him on, but he was patient, and waited until panic, pain and the desperate need to draw breath again made you kick your legs and try to get away from him.  
  
His laugh was as rotten as the rest of him. This was real. He could strangle you here and now and no one would ever know what had happened to you.  
Without pulling away his hand, he moved on the bed and then, God, he was rubbing his cock against your cunt, you gasped and whimpered his name but he ignored it, ignored your body squirming to get away from him.  
“Shhh, shhh. I know, babe. I -urp- I know.”  
With his other hand to guide it, he slipped his cock into you as if your protests and the feeble resistance you offered with your tense legs squeezing together touched him as lightly as the air. The first thrust was almost mockingly slow, and he didn’t pause until the head of his cock pressed almost painfully against your cervix.  
Christ, the man was hung like a horse. So thick that if you hadn’t been soaking wet just from the sound of his voice, it would have hurt to take him.  
A rusty red was crawling across your vision - were you going to pass out here, when the last sensation you could take in was his dick forcing you open?  
“Oh, princess, I’m sorry,” he laughed and relaxed his grip enough for you to take a quick, desperate breath. You coughed, wheezed and moaned and he ignored you still, pulled out half way and slammed back into you so hard it made you yelp in pain.  
“Yeah? Is it everything you’d hoped, hm? This dick everything you ever wanted?”  
He thrust inside again, and the bed bounced off the wall with each beat of his fast rhythm. It was painfully loud.  
“Oh Rick,” you moaned, and your voice cracked. It hurt to speak, and he was still giving you barely enough air to keep you going.  
“You know this is all you’re good for, right?” Rick grunted. “Get-getting fucked… yeah, du-uurgh-mb bitches like you should know their fucking place instead of m-messing with shit they don’t understand. Which is… yeah, hah, is just about everything…”  
Fuck, he felt good. Your head was spinning with the lack of oxygen and your clit throbbed almost painfully, but with your wrists so uncomfortably tied there was nothing you could do to alleviate it.  
Rick was leaning over you, keeping up the fast pace, letting go his grip on your throat every now and then to kiss the bruises and laugh at the feeble noises you made when you could finally breathe and moan and curse him again.  
“Yeah, that’s right - k-keep struggling. It just makes your pussy tighter… Remember this, next time you’re fingering yourself with -urrrp- with one hand and typing with the other. How much better this is than-than you could ever describe… ”  
He slid both hands down your arched back, grabbed a painful hold on your hips and forced you to bounce down to meet each of his thrusts. You sucked in huge lungfulls of air, released them in moans and little curses to provoke worse out of him.  
“Is that… the best… you got?”  
  
Rick snarled at you, pulled out and flipped you over once again. His hands were rough, his movements quick and careless - the tips of his fingers dug painfully into your ribs but there was no point in complaining because he’d only be happy to hear it.  
“You want rough, hm? I’ll-I’ll give you rough…” He forced your legs up and apart, slid his cock along your soaking, slippery cunt until he found the right angle and shoved himself back inside. He fell straight back into the same hard pace, selfish and careless, his hand found your throat again, a perfect fit, and once he realized you’d long given up on struggling against it, his lined, handsome face twisted into a mirthless grin.  
“You-you know your place, hm? You know you’re nothing but a worthless cunt…”  
You tried to nod, but his chokehold was too firm, too hard. Panic made your heart race so fast it was painful and the sound of the hot, deafening beat in your ears blocked out the slam of the bed against the wall, his low panting. You knew you were close, close to coming or to fainting, and either one sounded just as fucking perfect right now. One thing cut through the fog, though, and by the time you focused your eyes on him and recognised the noise, it was too late.  
“Let’s-let’s see if you’re really clever enough to know what you deserve…” Rick took a deep breath and spat, hard, right in your face. He actually spat in your face.  
It landed on your cheek. The impact made you start and blush in anger - as if you weren’t already red in the face from the lack of air. The hot, uncomfortable humiliation was so perfect coming from him that before you could do anything - get him back, kick him, curse him - you felt yourself tense up around him so hard it hurt, and Rick laughed, let go his grip on your throat and sat back, still inside you, to watch you come for him.  
“Oh you son of a bitch, oh, goddamn you, Rick…!” You were twitching under him, angry, grateful, annoyed, turned on beyond belief, completely overwhelmed.  
“Yeah, that’s-that’s it, my little princess. Come for me… you look so fucking perfect covered in my spit, you d-dirty bitch.”  
  
Before you were finished, Rick pulled out and took his dick in his hand. It was glistening, and he stroked it hard and fast without any attempt to make it look erotic for your benefit.  
The look he gave you was so cold; he looked down at you as if you weren’t even conscious, he just used your panting, blushing, dripping form to impatiently get himself off. As if that wasn’t perfect. As if he wasn’t just the way you’d imagined him.  
He yanked your head up by your hair, climbed over and with a long, low growl let his come spill out, hard and hot across your face, your hair, your mouth. Fuck, that felt so perfect, looked just as gorgeous as you’d imagined it, and when he squeezed his dick harder to milk out the last few spurts, you caught them eagerly on your outstretched tongue.  
The instant he was finished he let you go, tucked his still hard cock back into his trousers and got off the bed.  
How he could snap back into acting normal at the drop of a hat like that was beyond you, but then again it wasn’t hard to imagine he’d gotten plenty of practice over the years.  
Rick sighed, ran his hand through his hair and then, as if he remembered it only by a stroke of luck, he got a pen knife out of a pocket and tossed it onto the bed. It landed far enough away from your head or your arms to be painfully awkward to get to, but he didn’t seem to notice.  
Another bit of fumbling retrieved his portal gun, and once he hefted it in one hand, he turned and gave you one last dispassionate look.  
“You… you learned your lesson, or are you gonna make me have to come back?”  
It was impossible to come back with something snappy on the spot because in all honesty, the last ripples of your orgasm had yet to fade away and your head was spinning as if he’d gotten you drunk. After a second’s thought, and after wiping the worst of the mess he’d made off on the edge of the blanket, you looked back at him and shrugged with a shaky smile.  
“I dunno. I mean, I am pretty stupid after all.”  
Rick snorted and shook his head. “Yeah. That’s… that’s what I expected. Well, you… if you need another reminder, you… you’ll know how to provoke me.”


End file.
